


Glittering, Golden, Dazzling Lights

by starhoneyy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Humping, Forced Relationship, Frottage, Guns, Humiliation, Jealousy, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun Being an Asshole, M/M, Masochist Yuta, Mildly Dubious Consent, Political Parties, Politics, Possessive Behavior, Sadist Jaehyun, Tension, Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationship, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhoneyy/pseuds/starhoneyy
Summary: Jaehyun was nothing more than a predator, and Yuta had fallen as his prey.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 17
Kudos: 111





	Glittering, Golden, Dazzling Lights

Dazzling, bright lights hung high from the chandeliers, the reflection glittering on the surface of his perfectly polished loafers. Everything was put in order, correctly in their place, from the finger foods, to the stage that would host the tedious talks, down to the angular, angel-white decorations. Yuta felt like them — the decorations — nothing more than an arm piece to show off, a prized possession to remain rigid and in place until the night was over, and he'd be torn down and scrapped away.

His fate would be worse than that of a simple bannister, a wine glass, or even a napkin. Yuta wouldn't get thrown away at the end of the night, Yuta would _die._ Jaehyun had promised him that before the night had even begun.

Fingers had dug into his arm, pinching painfully into his flesh and ripping Yuta out of his maladaptive daydream, forcing him to keep his head on straight, a sore reminder of what would happen if he misbehaved. Jaehyun's hand fell then to the dip in his back, caressing it once, and effectively causing a low shiver to run down Yuta's spine, before he placed his arm around Yuta's lithe waist instead as they walked in.

Jaehyun's hand around his waist was possessive, but it didn't need to be, Yuta knew his place. Even if Jaehyun would let go for the rest of the night, he would still glue himself to Jaehyun's side, he wouldn't _dare_ to run away — not after what happened last time. It was like the rope burns on his wrist and ankles were still there from last week when Jaehyun tied him to the bed and fucked him so hard, he saw stars, his body was spent, ass still stinging from the pinpricks of pain and pleasure Jaehyun's mighty hand had caused.

His own moans were practically still ringing in his head.

But Jaehyun wouldn't be so nice this time. Yuta was wearing his patience _thin,_ a thread so delicate that it would only take one airy breath in its direction to snap. Yuta had been holding his own breath in trepidation, and he'd been doing it ever since they were in the car when Jaehyun had gripped his jaw, leaned over, and grazed his lips on Yuta's ear to whisper, _"I will kill you if you misbehave."_

His hands had wandered to Yuta's neck then, as it always did, eyes fixated on the flushed, tan skin before he _squeezed._ Not hard enough to leave a mark — not because the limo driver could see if he so much as flickered his eyes over to the rear view mirror — _no,_ he had to make sure that Yuta was still _pretty_ for the night's events. People would ask questions if they saw a mark, and Jaehyun didn't like questions. Jaehyun didn't like anything at all.

But Jaehyun had been reassuring even then, eyes locked unto Yuta's blown out ones, as his fingers grazed the edge of Yuta's cheeks. He had said the words that he knew Yuta liked — called him pretty, called him _beautiful,_ called him every name of the sun, as if he were a lover. But Jung Jaehyun wasn't that. Jung Jaehyun could never be such a thing.

But that was then, and this was _now._ Yuta had been scared then, along with some warm, heady emotion that made his veins thrum from something akin to excitement, but he wasn't scared anymore — he knew his job, he knew his place, he knew how to turn up the corner of his lips into an innocent smile.

"Ah, Mr Jung. I'm glad you could make it. I was disappointed when you didn't attend my last one — quite offended even," the man chuckled.

Yuta's cheeks hurt, and Jaehyun's thumb brushed over his side in warning.

Yuta softened the smile. Jaehyun mustn’t have liked it when he looked too _eager._

"Of course. My apologies for my lack of attendance at your last exhibition, but I hope my presence at this party makes up for it," Jaehyun said with his perfected, candid smile.

Yuta could remember falling for it once. The moon and ocean that pooled within his cheeks, and the low, smooth tone in which he spoke and laughed — rambunctious, deep, like music had glid from the cusps of his lips and happened to fall upon Yuta's ears. At the time, Yuta had considered himself _lucky._

"Of course. Your presence now _more_ than makes up for it," the man replied, eyes not-so-subtly sweeping over Yuta's quiet frame in unmasked interest.

Yuta felt Jaehyun's hand tighten around his waist, a feeling over entrapment encompassing his being at the sole action. Yuta tried to warn the man that for his sake, with his eyes, that he should stay away. But the man simply licked his lips, eyes glazed over like a predator looking at its prey — like Jaehyun did to him, except that Yuta felt no warm tingles course through him now — and it was in that moment that Yuta knew whoever this was would be a dead man.

"How much for him?"

Yuta stilled, mouth cotton dry.

"He's off the market," Jaehyun replied without missing a beat.

Perhaps it was the monotonous way he said it, or perhaps it was because his voice had gotten dangerously low, but the man's eyes then shot up to Jaehyun's face, and he viscerally took a step back, albeit subtly. Yuta could understand it; nobody would want to be so close to him when Jaehyun exuded such a dark and powerful vibe. What he couldn't understand, however, was the blatant _disrespect_ from the man himself — he knew what went on in these parties; the exchange of men and women alike for a few thousand to million dollars, but never once had a man actually offered it to _him._ They all knew better.

Whoever this was had made a grave mistake.

As Jaehyun turned and led him away, Yuta could feel hand prints mark themselves on his side. And didn't understand it. Only Jaehyun himself would ever be allowed to see even a sliver of skin, and they had established that rule a long time ago. Jaehyun kept his face stoic, his mask not once slipping despite the interaction just mere moments ago, only doing what he always did — kept his features rigid, his face forward, and walked.

"He will die."

Jaehyun hadn't even been looking at him when he said it, nor had he bothered to lower his voice either, uncaring if he was heard. The elite turned a blind eye to these things, Yuta knew, and it was as if they had a word filter of sorts, because not even one person turned in shock or surprise as they walked by. Jaehyun could casually slip in wanting to kill a man in a group conversation, and they would simply redirect said conversation to stocks, or the weather, or how the senators son had died when they all knew it wasn't some sort of freak accident.

Jaehyun had guided him away to mingle with other people, one on one to then larger groups, with a single tap on his side if he wished for Yuta to nod, and two taps if he wished for Yuta to speak up. Two taps were rare, but Yuta had been lucky enough to get them that night.

But Jaehyun was acting _off_ — he had been since their first interaction with the man who had offered to take a bite of him, and the grip on his waist had been tightening so much that it had long slipped over the precipice of just painful.

It came as no surprise to Yuta when Jaehyun cooly excused himself out of a five person conversation to use the restroom — so suave, so cool, so casual, so goddamn _composed_ that nobody had questioned it. Nobody would have _dared_ to question it. Jaehyun wasn't known to the eyes of the public, but here he had underground ties, and he knew every slimy politician and dealer alike. Jaehyun didn't just make connections, he _was_ the connector.

Hand firmly placed on his back, Jaehyun guided him toward the bathroom in calm, calculated steps, before proceeding to lock the door, digging his fingers into Yuta's jaw, and rutting his hips on Yuta's front.

Jaehyun was merciless in his actions, with his low, thick grinds, and borderline painful thrusts, that had Yuta's dick twitching from arousal and interest. His other hand had travelled down past the band of Yuta's suit trousers and slipped into his pants where Yuta was bare on his command. Yuta's hole was prepared, but they were still without lube, but that was never something to desist Jaehyun, a man who had fucked him raw and dry, the spit on his dick doing nothing for him as he made a gaping tear in Yuta's hole.

His fingers tore Yuta's open, and he immediately found Yuta's prostate, causing Yuta to let out wanton moans.

Jaehyun's hips ground on Yuta's relentlessly, making him throw his head and his legs quake beneath him, dick struggling against the tight confines of his pants. A wet patch had formed already for Yuta, and Jaehyun, despite his actions, was practically unaffected — Jaehyun was a giver, not a receiver, and he could go for hours while Yuta's body writhed under him, worn and practically lifeless, nothing left to drain from him but blood and sweat.

When a thick finger brushed his spot just right, Yuta felt the flickering flames of heat pool within his belly, before his legs gave out, and he came, stickiness coating his bare thighs. Only then did Jaehyun pull back, retreating both his hands and hips, only to swallow this lewd moan that had fallen from Yuta with his own lips aggressively.

When Yuta came down from his high, blinking away the light that had momentarily eclipsed his vision, he saw Jaehyun fixing his cufflinks and making himself look presentable. Yuta was anything but. And he couldn't stay like this. He couldn't walk out with soiled trousers and ruffled clothes, cum patches drying between his thighs.

But that's what Jaehyun wanted — his _humiliation._ He'd parade Yuta around for another hour as punishment before he went home and fucked him long through the night, chanting one single word in his ear;

_Mine, mine, mine._

"Jaehyun, I— I—"

Yuta wanted to protest. He wanted to tell Jaehyun to get him a change of clothes, because he knew it would be easy and quick. But Yuta's words of protest died on his tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste, when Jaehyun's eyes shot up to his, warning and almost daring. He'd strangle him in this bathroom, Yuta knew, he'd strangle him despite not wanting to mess up Yuta's appearance, and Yuta would tip his head back and moan, because he was truly the filthy whore Jaehyun had always said he was.

Yuta was no different. Yuta _liked_ this.

Jaehyun must have suddenly remembered the cause of his anger now that Yuta had spoken up, for he dug his hand into his own suit jacket and pulled out a thick, steely, black gun. He pressed the cold metal to Yuta's chin, forcing his eyes upwards, and causing an electric volt to charge down Yuta's spine.

"If you _ever_ let another man look at you like that again," Jaehyun started with a hiss, "I will blow your brains out. Do you understand?"

Yuta swallowed down nothing, blinking as Jaehyun's eyes scoured his face in a scathing scare. He let go after one beat, two beats, _three,_ and he withdrew his gun to place it back into its rightful place, as if he hadn't dared to kill a man, as if he hadn't made Yuta's heart threaten to rip itself right out of its ribcage, as if he hadn't dared to take Yuta's life.

Jaehyun leaned in again then, his soft lips pressing against Yuta's damp forehead in a warm, lingering kiss. But Yuta couldn't focus on that, he couldn't even stop to think, he could only hear the thrum of blood pounding is his ears as he came to one daunting realisation;

The willowed string that held the remnants of his life would _snap_ by the end of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t even know what this is... but it’s an attempt at _something_. This was just me venting <3  
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/starhoneyy)  
> [cc activities](https://curiouscat.qa/starhoneyyy)


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